A FULL Truck
note large garbage bin at rightWaited, and waited, left message, waited, and waited, until a brief call at 4PM saying they'd now be there on Thursday, early. "How early?" 7AM. Okay.
Was there at 6:45AM, and waited, and waited, and left message, and ... they showed up at 9AM. I was in a good mood, but kept my tongue. Again they filled the large truck, saying they'd be back later that afternoon for the rest.
Received call at 5PM saying there was miscommunication (gee) and actually they'd be back next week (!) for the balance. I was real happy.
Never could get the boss, the man who'd sold me on using the auction service, on the phone. Had not received a copy of the inventory of all they took, the catalog that accompanies the auction. A big selling point to me and Pop, he said numerous times that, "I email it to 1,300 people." But not 1,301 evidently: I still or do not have a copy, even after leaving more messages. Sigh.
Today is auction day however, and wife daughter and I will make our pillgramage to the site, to say goodbye to the "stuff" ... and see just what the heck they are selling, and for how much. It has become a tiny bit of a trust issue, damn, something always bad for business. Especially as he told me, again numerous times, that "Maybe best not to come to the auction: it is hard to see your stuff sold." Hmm.
Maybe true, but as I told him, numerous times, "It is not my stuff." And besides, if they were planning to do a fast one (remember that small "trust issue") the best way would be not to send me a inventory/catalog and then not have me at the auction. Damn, more stress.
What did I do while waiting for the auction truck and messages? Oh, I rested, laid on the sofa, had my naps. Not! I helped mother and sister arrange the Garage Sale From Hell, a title that deserves italics, bold face and underline to go the capital letters.
The sale was yesterday (and today). My daughter and I were out at 10:30PM Thursday night nailing signs to telephone poles. I was there until 11PM Friday night then back at 6:15AM on sale day, putting up signs, blocking of areas with orange tape and generally getting all the "stuff" ready. Once customers started arriving I quit.
And went home? No. Had a nap? Something to eat? No and no. I started working on the garbage.
From 9Am until 3PM I worked, non-stop except for "natural breaks," filling at huge garbage bin with garbage.
Quality garbage: strips of solid oak, half-sheets of plywood, damaged but fixable equipment.
Ugly garbage: bags breaking when lifted, spilling out slimy sloppy "stuff"
Smelly garbage: rotten food and chemical smells, soggy rugs smelling like wet dog.
Dangerous garbage: Cans of oil and kerosene and paint and thinner and creosote and ...
I still hurt, though a shower stopped me from smelling. Methinks I should burn the clothes I wore though. But EUREAKA, the garbage is gone, or loaded anyway. Yesterday was the hardest day yet; one of the hardest days of my life actually.
Physically of course, but also emotionally. I love my siblings, but don't always love to work with them. Then there was Mom, wandering around in shock all day, seeing her treasures priced at ridiculously-low prices of 2 and 3 dollars--and still not selling! Yesterday was a non-stop kick in her guts, as was the $195.25 total sales at the end of the day. Is that all her"stuff" was worth? Mom definitley should not have attended the sale.
So much work for so little. The house is still full, but that's okay, at least in my narrow, selfish view: what doesn't sell ("stuff" I don't have move, again) goes to charity and their big truck and young backs (more "stuff" I don't have move, again).
Truly sorry for not posting this week. It was my 9th, ninth, NINTH! week waist-deep in their "stuff," and I'm ready to quit. Luckily the job now becomes an order of magnitue easier.
I hope.
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